


Mystical Connection

by undergrounduno



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 06:08:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1929606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undergrounduno/pseuds/undergrounduno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you've seen the ends of the universe and the fringes of the next, you just don't need a logical reason to have sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mystical Connection

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Oft](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oft/gifts).



There was no better sensation than lying under a woman who could break you in half. It put those dangerous otherworldly scenarios you were constantly battling to shame, really, especially when her hands were gripping your thighs so hard you knew there were going to be bruises under bruises by the morning's light. The room around them he didn't even want to look at. A library full of priceless literature was in shambles, he was sure. That was probably the downside to the scenario before him; when a woman was Red She Hulk, you should find safer places to get worked up and worked over. They hadn't even found the spell he'd been looking for to stop the most imminent crisis. All they knew was that frustration was high and frustration had to be stomped out before Betty stomped something important. 

Massive and ornate desk served a decent enough purpose, papers flying in every direction when she'd all but tossed his half stripped body over onto it. He didn't even have a chance to wince, not with her hands climbing over his pants and freeing them from the equation. He didn't want to wince when that gaze of hers was locked on him and her mouth twisted upwards into a mischievous smirk. Strange didn't even know what the woman had in store but he knew whatever it was? He was going to love every second of it.

She wasn't wasting time with words or permissions, both of which were ok with him to pass over. Betty knew what she wanted and was adamant that she was going to have it. Strange was equally as adamant that he was going to let her. Even with that ridiculous _you don't say no to the Hulk_ line running through his head, he was already countering it. _If it's_ this _Hulk... who would_ want _to?_

Her hair slipped down over her shoulders when she had effectively crawled up to his waist and straddled him, teeth a godsend against his neck and ear. He was pretty sure he was making some noises that would have worked as excellent blackmail fodder and he was sure those noises were to her liking because her effort to hear more escalated her current (and very effective) tactics. Betty's gaze was hungry, wanting, desiring everything he was willing to give up and she was appeased that his response was to offer up everything he had at his disposal. His fingers moved upward to cup the side of her face and she tugged them downward, between her parted thighs. 

No one ever said that Betty wasn't direct and forward in her new She Hulk form.

Her tongue slipped across her lips, obviously pleased with the skilled fingers exploring her, moving in deeper. She'd often joked that he had the longest fingers she'd ever seen (and wondered if other things measured up). At least in the hand skill department she was very satisfied. 

Nails dug into his thighs and though he sucked in a breath he wasn't going to say he didn't enjoy the roughness. Here was a goddess atop him, bearing everything, allowing him intimate passage to her glorious temple. If she wanted to draw a little blood in a sign of appreciation, he wasn't going to stop her. 

Betty wasn't completely selfish in her desires (though he wouldn't have scolded her if she was), her hips moving against him, building up that age old tension of greatest proportions, allowing one instrument his body had to offer her for pleasure with another. Her hand reached for his neck and pulled him up roughly. He wouldn't deny her that either, definitely not when those perfect breasts were flush against him and she allowed his lips passage to pay proper homage to them. The goddess branded her nails against his back and he thanked her with his tongue and with a hand gripping her hips to pull her down even further on him. 

She whispered words of encouragement, phrases far from flowery and heavy with profanity. He growled ancient words that she was one hundred percent positive were equally profane and she reveled in the way the sorcerer came undone in her grasp. She allowed him to put his mouth against her lips only as she reached climax and only when she felt she wanted it. He took everything she gave and rode out his own climax only after she'd reached hers, so focused on worship he honestly felt the orgasm snuck up on him, encouraged by the spasms of her tight warmth wrapped around him and encouraging him to follow her to the bliss.

Even when she smirked that playful smirk she was still the goddess, propping an elbow on his shoulder and twirling those unruly cowlicks of his around her fingers. Even when she teased his awe over the matter and scolded him when his response was far more scandalous than people would expect from the Sorcerer Supreme, that content glow still radiated from sweat covered crimson skin. 

When she got off of him to reclaim her clothes, she found the paper that had led them into the library in the first place. "See? Sex does help save the world." She probably would have waved it triumphantly in his face if she wasn't so spent and unable to give a damn about theatrics.


End file.
